


Heat

by barbaXcarisi (barbaXbenson), Power-Bottom-Barba (Cap_Against_The_Clap)



Series: Pros and Cons [3]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Con Artists, Developing Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Prequel, Rough Oral Sex, Smut, White Collar AU kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbaXbenson/pseuds/barbaXcarisi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Against_The_Clap/pseuds/Power-Bottom-Barba
Summary: His work rarely got the recognition it deserved since most people, especially those who were wealthy and arrogant, didn’t like to brag about the fact that they’d been burgled. But thanks to Rita Calhoun, who loved to antagonize everyone, including the police who were trying to help her, Rafael had his first bit of press in quite some time.He would have to cut out the article and add it to the scrapbook.It was with more enjoyment than necessary that he read the short article detailing the theft and NYPD’s ineptitude, but when he got to the name of the detective in charge of the case he paused, finding himself curious. Picking up his phone from where it rested next to his coffee cup, he did a quick search for Detective Sonny Carisi.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AHumanFemale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHumanFemale/gifts), [Robin Hood (kjack89)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/gifts).



> My beloved AHumanFemale and Robin Hood wanted a prequel to Criminal Behavior and all I want in life is to make them happy, so here it is. 
> 
> My eternal gratitude to Power-Bottom-Barba for agreeing to help with this. You'll find those contributions in all their glory in the next three chapters and they are certainly the best parts of this fic by a long shot. <3
> 
> We hope you enjoy!

Sometimes it was too easy, Rafael thought as he snagged a flute of champagne off of a passing tray. An expensive tux, a sharp part in his hair, and the attitude of someone who thought he was better than everyone else always got him right through the door without a second glance.

He scanned the room, spotting the Manhattan DA, the Deputy Mayor, and several other members of New York’s rich and powerful. Rita Calhoun sure knew how to throw a hell of a party. He almost felt bad for ruining her night.

He was trying to decide if he wanted to take the opportunity to sample some of the appetizers before he got to work when a woman about ten years his senior, dressed in an elegant gown of shimmering gold, approached him. It never hurt to make the acquaintance of a woman of means—which, besides her presence at this party, the large diamonds at her ears and neck indicated that she was—so he fixed his most charming grin on his lips.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before,” she greeted once she’d reached him. She brought her glass of white wine to her mouth for a slow sip after she spoke and Rafael eyed the diamond tennis bracelet at her wrist. She’d apparently never heard of editing when it came to accessories, but one person’s fashion faux pas was his fortune.   

“I’m new to the city actually, but Ms. Calhoun was nice enough to invite me so that I could get to know some people.” Switching his champagne flute to his left hand, he held out his right. “Nick Halden.”

“Margaret Astor.” She placed her hand in his and more than wine flushed her cheeks when he brought her hand to his lips in a chaste kiss.

“It’s a pleasure.”

She was slow to take her hand back. “So, Nick, do you work for Rita’s firm?”

“I do, actually,” he agreed readily. He knew plenty about the law, if only so he could find fun new ways of breaking it, so he could hold his own in a casual conversation if he needed to. But it turned out Margaret—Maggie, as she was soon insisting that Rafael call her—knew very little about the law. Her husband, recently passed, had been a Wall Street broker and this party was her way of getting back out there.

Rafael had the passing thought that she didn’t seem all that upset about her recently found widowhood, if the way she was staring at him was any indication. He was used to it. His striking green eyes, easy grin, and thick, dark hair streaked with just the hint of silver was quite popular with the sixty plus widower crowd. He didn’t mind. It was good for business.

Twenty minutes later he walked away under the guise of retrieving refills for them both, Margaret’s tennis bracelet resting comfortably in the pocket of his trousers. He smiled to himself at the unexpected bonus and just before reaching the bar, he slipped unnoticed up an elegant staircase towards the reason he was actually there.

The second level was dark and quiet, just as he’d known it would be, and he easily found Rita’s office. He pulled a pair of black gloves out of his breast pocket, slipping them on before stepping inside and closing the door quietly behind him. He flipped on the desk lamp which provided enough light to work by, but not enough to draw attention, and crossed his arms, smiling at the painting that hung above the fireplace.

“Hello, beautiful.”

He retrieved his small tool kit from his pocket and went to work on the security bracket that held the frame to the wall. It would have been faster to just cut the canvas from the frame (his moronic benefactor certainly wouldn’t know the difference), but he couldn’t bring himself to harm the art, not if it was avoidable. So he took his time, unlocking the frame and lowering it off the wall. Minutes later the painting was rolled up and the empty frame was back in its place above the mantle.

Rafael stared at it a moment, wishing he’d had the time to paint a reproduction to put in the original’s place, but the window between receiving the job and this party had been too short. Not that it mattered. Whether they discovered the painting was missing tonight or months from now they’d still never find it.

He pulled off his gloves and then his jacket, using it to cover the rolled canvas, and in just his vest and bowtie he was instantly one of the waitstaff, guaranteed to not even be spared a glance by the party goers. He was down the stairs and out of the townhouse before anyone was the wiser and soon the painting was safely tucked inside the plastic tube he’d hidden behind a couple of garbage cans on his way into the party.

Yes, too easy, he thought as he made his way casually down Columbus Avenue and into the night.

* * *

The squeak of his cheap, black oxfords on the marble stairs made Sonny cringe internally. It wasn’t lost on him that the staircase probably cost more than he made in a year. After half a decade as a detective in the Major Case Squad, the division of the NYPD that handled art theft, he was used to being in homes that were more like museums, but that didn’t stop him from feeling completely out of place.

A feeling that only increased when he reached the home office, most likely referred to as a _study_ , and Rita Calhoun stared at his rumpled brown suit like it had personally offended her and all of her wealthy ancestors.

“You’re the brilliant detective we’ve all been waiting on?” Sonny opened his mouth to respond, but she didn’t give him the chance. “I called the police three hours ago.”

“I apologize, Ms. Calhoun. We were—“

“I don’t want your excuses,” Rita snapped. “Just do your job and find my painting.”

“Yes, ma’am.” A small mischievous smile played at Sonny’s lips when another man joined them in the room. “This is my partner, Detective Amaro. He’ll take your statement.”

Nick’s brow furrowed at Sonny, like he knew he’d just been tricked into something, but Sonny just ignored it and stepped over to stand in front of the empty frame hanging above the mantle. The Evidence Collection Team had already dusted the frame for prints and the tell tale black powder coated its surface. He had the passing thought that Ms. Calhoun would be sending the NYPD her cleaning bill.

He leaned in close to the frame, noting the blank spaces carved out in the powder where ECT had retrieved a couple of fingerprints. They wouldn’t belong to their perp, he was sure, but they still had to go through the motions.

Pulling a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, Sonny slipped them on before reaching out to pull the frame from the wall just enough to get a look behind it. “It was locked to the wall?”

Rita looked up from her conversation with Amaro. “Of course it was. I’m not just going to leave a painting worth millions unsecured.”

Sonny didn’t point out the obvious, that the locks could easily be removed, since that’s clearly what happened. Rita Calhoun already seemed to be filled with disdain for him, he didn’t think rubbing her face in the fact that her security wasn’t great would help the situation much.

He pulled the frame down from the wall, setting it on the floor, so he could examine the lock. It was a clean job; there wasn’t so much as a knick in the cream colored paint.

“So,” Nick said, walking over to him once he’d finished up with Rita. “Looks like there was a party going on downstairs and someone took advantage. Ms. Calhoun noticed the painting missing this morning. That seems to be the only thing that’s missing even though she’s got a lot of other artwork and antiques throughout the house.”

“Guest list?” Sonny asked as he returned the frame to the wall, knowing it wouldn’t matter. The thief wouldn’t be on any list. He never was.

“She’s got a list of invitees her assistant is going to send over, but they didn’t have anyone working the door or anything.”

Sonny caught his meaning. Anyone could have walked in. He never understood how people could have millions of dollars worth of possessions and not take the smallest of security precautions when letting a bunch of random people into their home. He had two deadbolts on his apartment door and the most valuable thing he owned was an XBox.

“You think it’s him?” Nick asked, tucking his notebook into his breast pocket.

It wasn’t the first, or even second, case they’d caught where expensive artwork had gone missing during a party at the home. He wasn’t going to tell Rita Calhoun that they had yet to recover those items.

“Yeah,” Sonny looked again at the empty frame, a gaping mouth openly mocking him. “It’s him.”

* * *

Pulling the binder from his bottom drawer where it had been kept for the last six months, Sonny dropped it to his desk with a resounding thud. His file on Rafael Barba, kept in a binder because it had become too thick for a manilla folder to hold. The pages were worn by now, their contents practically memorized, but that didn’t stop him from flipping through it again now.

There were dozens of reports, culled from law enforcement agencies all over the world. Bond forgery in DC, a stolen sculpture in France, antique theft in England, the list was endless. All cases unsolved, all with a single person of interest. Danny Brooks, George Devore, Benjamin Cooper, Victor Moreau, all aliases that were now known to belong to Rafael Barba.

But that’s as far as any of the cases ever got, naming a person of interest. There was never any evidence, no proof, just similarities between the crimes and whispers within the criminal community, mostly from Barba’s competition, but no one was ever willing to speak with police or testify. Sonny supposed there really was honor among thieves.

“You see this?” Nick slapped a newspaper on his desk, folded so that the headline ‘Art Theft Baffles NYPD’ screamed out at him.

“I guess that’s what representing half the board of the Times will get you.” Sonny took a drink from his NYPD emblazoned coffee mug.

“We just caught the case yesterday.” Nick settled in at his desk across from Sonny. “You’d think she’d give us five minutes before siccing the public on us.”

“She didn’t really seem like the type to pull any punches.” Sonny didn’t really want to read the article, but felt he should probably know what was being said about the case publicly, so he pulled the paper toward him.

Nick watched, waiting for the reaction, and got it when Sonny’s forehead creased bit by bit the more he read.

“Seriously? ‘When reached for comment Detective Sonny Carisi, the lead on the case, said that the the NYPD had nothing to offer.’ That’s not what I said. I told them we don’t comment on an active investigation.” He shook his head and shoved the paper away. “I know responsible journalism is wishful thinking at this point, but would it kill them to not purposely mislead the public?”

“At least it’s buried pretty deep in the paper. Maybe no one will read it?” Nick offered in a rare bout of optimism.

“Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

Rafael sat on his terrace, the early morning sun warm on his skin as he read the paper. He had a digital subscription as well, but there was something about holding the paper in his hands, ink smudging his fingers, that he enjoyed. He supposed it was a sign of his age, but he had no desire to dwell on that.

It was to his complete and utter delight when he turned the page and found an article in the bottom left corner that referenced the stolen Matisse.

His work rarely got the recognition it deserved since most people, especially those who were wealthy and arrogant, didn’t like to brag about the fact that they’d been burgled. But thanks to Rita Calhoun, who loved to antagonize everyone, including the police who were trying to help her, Rafael had his first bit of press in quite some time.

He would have to cut out the article and add it to the scrapbook.

It was with more enjoyment than necessary that he read the short article detailing the theft and NYPD’s ineptitude, but when he got to the name of the detective in charge of the case he paused, finding himself curious. Picking up his phone from where it rested next to his coffee cup, he did a quick search for Detective Sonny Carisi.

There wasn’t much, only a couple of articles with accompanying photos. The first was an article about a new LGBTQ initiative within the NYPD that apparently Detective Carisi was instrumental in bringing to fruition. The photo, his NYPD headshot, showed him in full uniform, complete with hat and a stern look on his face, but even the standard cop grimace couldn’t take away from the shine in his bright blue eyes.

The second article was about a bank robbery that had taken place in midtown last fall and the photo was a candid one of the detective standing outside of the bank, an NYPD windbreaker thrown over a white button up and an unfortunate looking olive green tie, his silver streaked hair windblown.

He  was standing next to a handsome man with dark hair and features, and a matching windbreaker. His tie was a decidedly better steel gray, but Rafael found that, despite the bad tie, he only had eyes for the blonde.

Rafael scoured the internet, but wasn’t able to find much more. Fortunately, that wouldn’t be a problem. He had other means of getting information. Rising from his seat to go inside and retrieve a different phone, a smile played at his lips. This was going to be fun.

* * *

The report on his phone screen told Sonny exactly what he’d been expecting. The only prints found in the home office and on the painting belonged to Rita and her cleaning staff. She’d refused to let them dust the lower level as there had been clients at her party and she claimed it was just NYPD trying to get their prints on file.

It would have been pointless anyway. There were dozens of guests at the party, not to mention caterers and other event staff. Finding the perp’s prints among them would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

He closed out the report as he stepped off of the elevator and into the squad room, weaving his way through desks until he reached the pair that he and Amaro shared. A black box with a purple ribbon sat in the middle of his desktop calendar. He frowned at it before looking over at Amaro who was typing something on his laptop.

“What’s this?”

Nick shrugged, not looking up. “It was here when I got here.”

“You know that whole ‘see something, say something’ thing applies to us as well as the civilian population of New York, right?” Sonny eyed the box carefully. “It could be a bomb or somethin’.”

“It’s not ticking,” Nick offered unhelpfully.

Sonny sighed, hesitating for a few more seconds, wondering if he shouldn’t call in the Bomb Squad just in case. Finally, in a decision that probably wasn’t his best, he placed his hands on the ribbon, pulling it gently. With just as much care he removed the lid. “What?” His face pinched in confusion.

Inside the box was a deerstalker cap, a pipe, and a large magnifying glass. There was small purple card tucked in the corner and he plucked it from the box. “Son of a bitch,” he grumbled when he read the words.

Finally deeming this interesting enough, Nick looked up. “What?”

Sonny handed him the note and Amaro chuckled. “He’s an arrogant prick. I’ll give him that.” He tossed the card so that it landed on Sonny’s desk face up.

_Detective —_

_I thought these might help since you seem to be having a tough go of it._

_— R_

* * *

The words on his laptop screen began to swim in front of Sonny’s eyes and he blinked a few times, sitting up straight to stretch his aching spine. The squad room was dim, most everyone having already gone home for the night, but he was determined to work until he found something. Rita’s mudslinging in the paper and Rafael’s taunts had him focused solely on proving them both wrong.

He was failing miserably.

They’d interviewed most of the guests at the party—some were out of town and others were playing ‘contact my lawyer and we’ll set something up’—and so far no one had seen anyone or anything suspicious, there were no forensics to speak of, and the painting hadn’t shown up on any of the black market channels that they monitored.

He rubbed a hand across his tired eyes and reached for his coffee mug, only to find it empty. It was probably for the best since he’d had coffee for lunch and dinner. At his last department physical the doctor had warned that his blood pressure was slightly elevated and given his family history, high stress job, and level of caffeine intake he was at risk for it increasing even further. Caffeine was the only thing on that list he really had the power to control, but it was a battle he was losing.

Sonny found the next name on his list of Barba’s aliases and typed it into the database he’d been using. Since he’d come up short in all other aspects, he’d been checking to see if Barba (or a version of him) owned or rented property in the city. Someone of his nature was sure to have a safe house or a secure storage facility of some kind. It was just a matter of finding it.

He thought he was imagining it when his computer gave a positive little chime. A hit. A sudden rush of adrenaline flooded through him as he read over the results. There, on the corner of 10th and Ave D, was a storage locker rented to one Leonard Parker.

“Gotcha,” Sonny whispered triumphantly into the empty room, reaching for the phone to call their ADA.

The silver lining to Rita’s influence with city officials was that it was a quick and easy process for Sonny to get a warrant for the storage locker after hours. According to ADA DiCarlo, the judge had fallen over himself to sign off on it.

He had the warrant in his inbox before he parked his car on the corner of 10th and D. He hadn’t called Nick, he had his daughter that evening and there was no use pulling him away if this was nothing. The same went for the ECT. If his lead proved fruitful, he’d call them in, but for now he was on his own.

Not the smartest move under normal circumstances, but even though Rafael Barba was a lot of things, he’d never been violent. In fact, in some of his crimes there was a visible effort made to actively avoid violence. No, Sonny thought, even if he happened upon Barba in the middle of a criminal act, he wouldn’t be in danger.

Sonny found the attendant on duty, his legs kicked up on the desk, watching Game of Thrones on a tablet, his back to the window. Sonny used his badge to tap on the glass and tried not to smile when the man jumped a mile high.

After explaining why he was there and bringing the warrant up on his phone, the man, Toby according to his name tag, showed him to Leonard Parker’s storage unit. “I’ve got it from here,” Sonny waved him off and Toby handed him the bolt cutters he carried and walked off to return to his TV show.

It turned out that the bolt cutters were unnecessary. There was no lock on the door at all. Setting the bolt cutters on the ground, Sonny pulled his gun and gripped the door handle with his other hand. Despite his earlier confidence that Bara wasn’t capable of violence, Sonny hesitated. There could be literally anything behind the door, but his need to know outweighed his concern.  Taking a deep breath, he rolled the door up its track.

His relief at a lack of explosion quickly turned to annoyance when he saw that the room was empty. “Dammit,” he huffed into the empty space, holstering his weapon. He reached up to roll the door back down when something caught his eye, a small square of white on the gray concrete floor.

A business card, he discovered when he used his pen to flip it over, for Chris Gates, an art consultant, complete with phone number and email address. Sonny grinned, retrieving an evidence bag from his pocket.

* * *

Rafael's iPad let out a quiet ping and he sat his glass of scotch down so he could swipe the screen to life. After tapping a few buttons he was watching the video feed that showed the inside of his storage locker.

He picked up his glass again, watching as Detective Carisi looked annoyed at finding the storage space empty and then as he holstered his weapon. Rafael was prepared for disappointment when he saw the detective reach for the door, but then Carisi stopped and once again stepped into the room, squatting down to flip the business card over.

He took a drink as Carisi bagged the card with a grin on his face. He was clearly pleased with himself. Rafael’s own grin mirrored the detective’s as he spoke aloud to the screen, “Good boy.”

* * *

Sonny whistled as he walked into the precinct the next day, a coffee in each hand, and Nick eyed him warily. “What’s got you in such a good mood? Did you finally get laid?”

“Even better,” Sonny handed Nick his coffee before sitting in his own chair. “I got a lead on Barba.”

“No shit?” Nick’s eyebrows raised. It’d been nearly two weeks since the Matisse was stolen and months since the others. He was starting to think that they’d be chasing their tails forever.

“No shit,” Sonny confirmed, taking a drink of his own coffee. “I got a phone number and an email address of an alias we didn’t know about. I got them to TARU last night and I just came from Hogan Place. DiCarlo’s working to get a warrant to track the phone.”

“Damn, man, this could be all we need.”

Sonny’s knee bounced under his desk for the next hour or so while he tried to distract himself, working on a much less exciting warehouse robbery. He read the same line of the report a dozen times, constantly checking his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls or texts.

Finally, he got a message from ADA DiCarlo that she was emailing over the warrant and that he could give TARU the go ahead to track the phone. He called TARU, giving the order and waiting on the line while they narrowed down the phone’s location. It was only a few minutes before the tech was giving him the address.

“Great, thanks,” Sonny ended the call and hopped up from his desk.

“Want me to ride along?” Amaro asked casually, but Sonny could tell that he really wanted to go. Nick had been just as invested in tracking down Barba as he had.

Still, he shook his head. “Nah. He’s never going to give me anything, but I’m thinking maybe if I go in casually I can convince him to consult on the case. You know what an ego he has. I don’t think he’ll turn down the opportunity, and then we hope that he slips up somewhere along the way.”

Nick nodded, mulling over the idea. “Yeah, I can see how that might work. Give me a call if you need me.”

“Sure thing,” Sonny assured him over his shoulder as he made his way quickly toward the door.

* * *

Sonny sauntered up to the small table in the corner of the cafe, the man sitting there held the New York Times in his hands, something caramel colored and frothy steaming in a mug on the tabletop. “You’re a difficult man to track down, Mr. Barba,” Sonny said, pushing his jacket back to reveal the badge on his hip.

Rafael reached around the paper, gripping the mug and bringing it to his lips, not bothering to look up from the story he was reading. “And yet, here I am.”

“You mind?” Sonny pulled out the chair opposite Rafael and plopped in it before the other man could answer.

Rafael sighed, lowering the paper. “What can I do for you, Detective?”

“A Matisse painting disappeared from the home of a private collector a couple of weeks ago. You know anything about that?” Sonny leaned back in his chair, casually eyeing Rafael. His expensive dove gray suit was expertly tailored and not a hair was out of place. He was completely and utterly handsome, but the way he held himself showed that he knew it and used it to his advantage.

It was surreal sitting across the table from him. He’d spent so much time reading about and researching Rafael Barba that he’d become almost like a mythical figure, so it was a bit disorienting to have the man himself right in front of him.

“Why would I know anything about that?” Rafael asked innocently, taking another sip of his drink.

Sonny just gave him a pointed look.

“Look, Detective, you seem smart and capable.” Rafael ran his finger absentmindedly around the rim of his mug. “They don’t promote officers to Detective based on looks alone, though with you they certainly could have, so you know that there is nothing linking me to the theft and that there is no way I’m going to say anything more on the matter.”

“And someone as smart and capable as you,” Sonny leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table, “is well aware of the fact that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have something.”

Now Rafael leaned forward as well, closing the space between them to mere inches. “You’re cute when you lie.”

This close, Sonny was struck by how green Barba’s eyes were and he felt the faintest uptick in his pulse, his gaze involuntarily shifting to Rafael’s mouth.

The corner of that gorgeous mouth turned up, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “But, for the hell of it, tell me, what is that you think you have on me?”

Fuck, Sonny thought, knowing that he had absolutely nothing but a gut feeling. “I’m going to keep that to myself for the time being.”

Just as he’d thought, Rafael smirked. He finished up his coffee and folded his paper neatly before standing.

“Where are you going?” Sonny asked, surprised, and disappointed not that he’d ever admit it, at the abrupt end to their conversation.

“Oh, I never stay in one place for too long,” Rafael said cryptically.

“If you didn’t do this, maybe you can help me find who did,” Sonny said it in a rush, his plan of slowly working up to the offer ruined.

Rafael considered this, openly letting his appreciative gaze slide over the detective and enjoying the way a flush spread over the fair skin on his neck. Finally, he pulled a card from his breast pocket. “Come to this address tonight. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

When the glass door closed behind Rafael, Sonny was still staring at the card. The encounter hadn’t gone at all the way he’d expected, but he felt a buzz in his veins as he thought about seeing the man again tonight. He told himself it was because he was that much closer to arresting him and nothing else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "God," Sonny said, and Rafael could see the naked want in his face as he licked his lips. "I can't do this. This is... it's wrong."
> 
> "No one is forcing you to be here. You know where to find the door." Slowly, carefully, Rafael pulled his hand away from Sonny's gun and instead palmed him through his pants. Sonny's eyelids fluttered, and this time he couldn't suppress the groan that escaped his throat. "But I don't think you want to leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long this update took. barbaxcarisi wrote all the hard parts and I only provided the porn - Power-Bottom-Barba
> 
> PBB is a brilliant genius and the fantastic smut was well worth the wait. :) - barbaxcarisi
> 
> We both hope you enjoy! ~~Also this is going to be 4 chapters now instead of 3 because brevity is neither of our strong suits.~~

Rafael was nervous. He never got nervous, but this was a big risk, inviting a cop to his home. A cop who’s sole mission was to see him behind bars. But there’d been something between them at the coffee shop, something palpable, and he hadn’t been able to resist seeing what could come of it. 

He only hoped that Carisi was on the same page.

He didn’t get the chance to worry on it any further because there was a knock at his door. Rafael straightened his tie and took a deep breath, checking the peep hole before opening the door. “Detective,” he said casually and was relieved to see that the man was alone. He’d half expected a squad of officers and a search warrant for the premises.

“Mr. Barba.” Sonny nodded.

“You can call me Rafael, if you like.” He held the door open wider so Carisi could step through and then he closed it behind the detective, flipping the deadbolt into place. Carisi jumped at the sound and his hand went to his gun, but Rafael raised a calming hand. “Relax, I’m not taking you prisoner, Detective. I just have to be careful. I’m sure you understand.”

Sonny nodded, dropping his hand back down to his side and taking in the apartment. It was large and open with a plush couch and bookshelves made of real wood, but otherwise it was sparse. There were no personal items or artwork, which he found ironic. He’d seen staged apartments that felt more homey.

“Can I get you a drink?” Rafael asked, mostly because he wanted one. He felt oddly exposed having the detective scrutinizing his home.

“No thanks, I’m technically on duty.” Carisi pulled back his jacket so his badge flashed in the light, like having it clipped to his hip was his version of a time clock.

“Right,” Rafael nodded, but made his way over to the bar cart anyway. “I hope you won’t mind if I have something.”

“No, go ahead.” Sonny watched as Rafael poured two fingers of scotch with a somewhat unsteady hand. He liked that he made him nervous. “So what am I doing here?”

“I thought you wanted help with your case,” Rafael said casually, following it up with a gulp of scotch. “Something about needing my expertise.”

“I don’t recall ever using the word ‘expertise,’” Sonny crossed his arms. “And what exactly are you claiming to be an expert in?”   

“Oh, you know, this and that.” Rafael was struck by the fact that they were both still standing on either side of his living room, like two prize fighters in their own corners, sizing each other up. “Here, let’s sit.” He gestured to the couch and took a seat at one end.

Carisi sat too, keeping some distance between them, but not as much as he could have.

“Tell me about your case, and I’ll see if I can help.” Rafael felt kind of ridiculous keeping up the pretense, they both knew what was going on here, but he had to be careful.

Sonny ran through the gist of it, making sure to get some details wrong and watching Rafael’s expression to see if he noticed, but the man was good and his face remained neutral the entire time. “So, how do you think it was done?” he asked when he’d finished.

“Well, hypothetically,” Rafael hedged. “I’d say that there is very little security at events like these and that all someone would need is a nice tux and a smile and they’d blend right in.”

“That easy, huh?”

Rafael nodded. “That or a waiter uniform. People like that, they don’t pay any attention to the help.”

“That’s interesting.” Sonny leaned closer, gesturing to Rafael’s suit. “You seem to be pretty well off. How are you any different?”

Rafael thought before answering, realizing that at any moment he could say too much. “I work hard for everything I have—” Sonny scoffed, but he ignored it. “I don’t treat people poorly in order to get it.

Sonny tilted his head. “So you don’t consider breaking into homes, stealing belongings, to be hurting people?”  

Well apparently they were no longer going with the consulting ruse, Rafael mused. “Allegedly, Detective. I’ve never been arrested or convicted of any crimes.”

The man’s ability to talk in circles frustrated Sonny. He’d interrogated many criminals, if that’s even what this was, but questioning Rafael Barba was exasperating. There was never a straight answer to be found. “You told me you’d tell me anything I wanted to know, but so far you haven’t told me shit.”

“Well, maybe that’s because I thought you’d be asking me different questions.” He looked over at Sonny through heavy lidded eyes, his tone suggestive, and the detective felt his mouth go dry.

“Like what?”

Rafael shrugged and drained his glass. “It doesn’t really matter. I can see that I was mistaken and I think that it’s probably best if you go now.” Rafael stood to return to the bar cart, pouring even more of the amber liquid into his glass this time.

Sonny found himself feeling off kilter, much like he had earlier that day at the cafe when Barba had cut their conversation short. He had a hard time admitting to himself that the last thing he wanted to do was walk out of that apartment. “I still have questions.”

“I know you do, but I’m pretty sure they all require the presence of my lawyer.” He turned back around to face Sonny, but didn’t move to rejoin him on the couch.

Sonny stood, running a hand through his hair much in the way Rafael had wanted to do since he’d walked in the door. “Just one more.”

Rafael sighed, “Fine.”

Sonny took a step toward him, looking him directly in the eye. “Who’s Nick Halden?”

For his part Rafael didn’t do so much as bat an eye, and again Sonny was impressed with his ability to not react. “Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

Another step forward, almost as if his feet were moving on his own. “We finally tracked down one of the final party guests today. She said the only person who stood out to her was a handsome, charming man by the name of Nick Halden. And wouldn’t you know, when they were done talking, her diamond tennis bracelet was missing.”

Rafael took a final drink, setting his empty glass down on the cart, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from Carisi’s piercing blue gaze. He’d known he’d make a great opponent, but he couldn’t help but feel now that he’d underestimated the detective. “He certainly sounds like the kind of man who makes an impression.” It was a credit to his years of keeping cool in stressful situations that his voice didn’t waver, not one bit.

Sonny took another step and he was directly in front of Rafael now. “You know all I have to do is show her a photo array with you in it. Or better yet, drag you down to the station and make you do an official lineup.” They both knew all it would do was prove Rafael was at the party, something any half decent defense attorney could find a million reasons for that had nothing to do with larceny, but for some reason Sonny very much liked the idea of inconveniencing Barba anyway.

Rafael leaned forward, raising himself up just a bit so he was more eye level with Carisi. His eyes were full of ice and defiance when he challenged, “Do it then.”

Later, when he looked back on it, Sonny couldn’t say who moved first, one of them had to have done it, but in his memory it would always be that they crashed together, pushed by some unseen force until their lips were meeting in a frantic pace.

It was all tongue and teeth, more a battle than a kiss.  Sonny gripped Rafael's shoulders and pushed him back against the wall, crowding up against him as he licked into his mouth and tugged his lips with his teeth.  Rafael groaned and pushed back against him, unwilling to be cowed, and balled his fists in Sonny's shirt.  He shoved him, turning them, and Sonny grunted when his back hit the wall.

Sonny pulled Rafael's tie loose with enough force it jerked his head to the side, and Rafael gripped Sonny's tie in return, using it to pull him back down to crush their mouths together again.  

Rafael pulled him down the hall, Sonny nearly tripping over his feet as he was unwilling to break away from the punishing kiss.  When Rafael backed him up against a bed, Sonny's fingers hooked in the front of Rafael's shirt and yanked sharply.

The buttons bounced and clattered across his hardwood floors.  Rafael glowered and shoved Sonny, sending him sprawling on his back onto Rafael's king-sized bed.

Rafael touched his shirt, frowning at the loose threads where the buttons had been and turned his glare on Sonny, who shrugged.

"Steal a new one."

Rafael grinned like a predator.  "Be careful, detective.  That sounds almost like abetting." Sonny rolled his eyes and sat up, grabbing Rafael by the front of his belt and pulling him forward to kiss him once again.  Before he knew it, he had undone the buckle and popped the button of Rafael's slacks.

Rafael pushed his hands away, but not to stop him.  Hastily he loosened Sonny's tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, pulling it untucked and yanking it up over Sonny's head, along with his undershirt.  They tangled around Sonny's arms but Rafael didn't help him to get free, leaving him to scramble out of his shirt while Rafael undid his belt and pants.  

Rafael's hand stilled when his fingers brushed over Sonny's badge, glinting on his hip.  He wanted to prove he could have him, but more than that, he wanted him.  The badge was a tangible reminder of what a bad idea this really was, of how much of a danger Sonny could be to him.

But then, sleeping with a suspect wouldn't look too good for Sonny, either.  What was it they said about mutually assured destruction? Rafael ran his thumb over the badge again, sliding it off the belt as Sonny finally managed to struggle out of his shirt. Another reminder of the danger of his situation was the holstered gun on Sonny's hip.  Rafael's long fingers curled around it when he grabbed at the waistband of Sonny's slacks, and Sonny jerked back, grabbing Rafael's wrist.

"What are you doing?" he snapped, wary.  He squeezed tighter, enough to leave bruises later.

"Trying to take off your pants," Rafael answered, honestly, and though he arched one eyebrow, he stayed otherwise still.  He wanted to fuck a hot cop, not get shot.

Sonny licked his lips, apprehensive, and glanced from Rafael's eyes to his mouth.   "What the fuck am I doing?" he said, softly, more to himself than to Rafael.  He had never done anything like this before, but the guilt curling in his stomach was overshadowed by the desire.

"You're going to fuck me," Rafael said.  Sonny's dick twitched and he had to bite back a moan.  

"God," he said, and Rafael could see the naked want in his face as he licked his lips.  "I can't do this.  This is... it's wrong."

"No one is forcing you to be here.  You know where to find the door."  Slowly, carefully, Rafael pulled his hand away from Sonny's gun and instead palmed him through his pants.  Sonny's eyelids fluttered, and this time he couldn't suppress the groan that escaped his throat.  "But I don't think you want to leave."

Sonny's anger bristled again at Rafael's arrogance, but his desire spiked along with it.  In spite of himself, he yanked his belt and gun away from his body and moved enough to put it aside, away from Rafael's reach.  He grabbed the other man by the back of the neck and pulled him into another rough kiss before dragging him down onto the bed.  

"Yes," Rafael hissed, hooking his hands into the waistband of his own pants and boxer briefs, pushing them down over his hips and kicking them off his legs.  

Sonny swore when he saw Rafael's cock, flushed and heavy between his legs, glistening at the slit.  It was huge; he should have known the cocky bastard would be hung.  His mouth watered at the sight of it.

"Jesus, look at that thing," he said, without meaning too.  Rafael only grinned and flexed his hips up.  Embarrassed by his outburst, Sonny pushed Rafael onto his back and dipped his head to catch one brown nipple between his teeth.  Rafael hissed and arched up into the contact.  Sonny's tongue soothed where his teeth had flashed before he began to kiss down the other man's body, lips dragging over the soft curve of his belly.

"Yes," Rafael said again, but softer this time, and threaded his fingers through Sonny's hair as the younger man took him into his mouth. "God, yes."

Sonny didn't bother with teasing.  He sucked him deep into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks, Rafael hitting the back of his throat on the first dip of his head.  He pulled back, sucking hard on the tip of his prick and pushing his tongue up under the flared head, before swallowing him back down again.

"Fuck!" Rafael arched up from the bed, tightening his grip on Sonny's hair.  The way Sonny's mouth worked over him was practically punitive, and Rafael couldn't stop himself from thrusting up into his mouth.  Sonny choked and gagged, gripping Rafael's hips with both hands and shoving them back down against the mattress.  Rafael groaned and curled his body, propping himself up on one elbow so he could watch as he disappeared in and out of Sonny's mouth.

"God, that's so fucking good," he said, unable to stop himself as Sonny's nose pressed up against his body, buried in the dark curls around the base of his cock.  "That's right, suck me, Jesus... just like that."

Sonny pulled off with a pop, his swollen lips slick and chin shining with a mix of saliva and precome.  His cheeks were flushed red and his eyes were watering; the sight was enough to make Rafael moan.

"Shut up," Sonny said, his voice made hoarse by the way he was abusing his throat.  Though Rafael usually would have bit back with some sort of smart-ass retort, he found any reply died on his lips, replaced only with a quiet gasp as Sonny took him in again.

Sonny was relentless, and just when Rafael didn't think he would be able to last much longer, Sonny released his hips and gripped him behind the knees, shoving his legs up and forcing him onto his back again.  Sonny spit on his exposed asshole once, and then again.  Rafael shuddered when he began to rub his thumb in circles over the tight, puckered muscle.  

Sonny couldn't stop himself, pushing Rafael, listening to him gasp.  He'd spent so much time chasing him, being toyed with by him, antagonized by him.  It was half sex and half vengeance, and Sonny was drunk on it.  Drunk on Rafael, and the sounds he made as Sonny screwed a finger into the impossibly tight heat of his body with only spit to slick his way.

"Hold your legs up," he growled in a voice he hardly recognized, and Rafael did so, the sound of his breathing echoing ragged in the room as Sonny slowly thrust his finger in and out.  He spit again and listened to Rafael's whine as he pressed in a second finger.  

"Oh, god," Rafael breathed when Sonny wrapped his hand around Rafael's cock, pumping his fist even as the fingers of his other hand curled and pressed against his prostate.  "Oh,  _ god, _ fuck, fuck..."

He twisted his wrist, and Rafael jerked, and bucked, and came.  Sonny couldn't take his eyes off him, the sheen of sweat that covered his skin, the way his head tilted back and his mouth gaped open.  He caught the ribbons of Rafael's come in his hand and pulled the two fingers free of his body, only to replace them with three from the other hand, the way made easier with the prize won from Rafael's pleasure.  Rafael gasped and shuddered, not yet come fully down from his climax, and the intrusion of Sonny's thrusting fingers made him clench and cry out.

"Lube," Sonny demanded, stroking his fingers in and out of the tight heat of Rafael's ass.  He twisted his hand in a circular motion, doing what he could to stretch him open.  He was going to fuck him; he had to fuck him, nearly out of his mind with want.

"What?" Rafael asked, the look on his face dazed and uncomprehending.  

"Lube.  Where is it?" He curled his fingers and rubbed a circle against Rafael's prostate, eyes fixed on his face as it contorted and he cried out in over-sensitivity.

"Drawer!" He turned his head toward the nightstand as he cried out, and Sonny understood.  He moved away from Rafael, wiping his hands on his sheet before stripping out of his pants and rifling through Rafael's bedside table.  It was easy enough to find a bottle of slick and a condom, and he made quick work of rolling it on.  He pushed Rafael's knees back up as he settled again between them.  Rafael was pliant and slow in the fresh haze of his orgasm, whining softly as his legs were shoved roughly upward.  

Even then, he still hooked his hands behind his knees and held them up, exposing himself as he stared up at Sonny.

Sonny drizzled a generous stream of slick onto Rafael's ass, making soothing sounds as he whimpered and flinched at the cold.  He poured even more lube onto his own prick, stroking himself to spread it.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he said, matter-of-factly.  "Alright?"

It took Rafael a long moment to realize that Sonny was waiting for his answer.  He swallowed thickly and nodded, finding he couldn't make his mouth form the words.  It was clear enough for Sonny, who leaned forward, bracing himself on one hand as he entered Rafael with a powerful thrust.

The world blurred and faded around Sonny as he crowded his body low against Rafael.  There was nothing except the feeling of Rafael around him, the fire inside him, the blindingly tight clench of him.  

"Unh, unnn, god, oh god," Rafael gasped and choked, his brow drawn tight, a symphony of whines and cries spilling from his lips as Sonny fucked him.  

Sonny gave himself over to it, abandoned his body to pleasure, thrusting roughly into the other man even as he dipped his head to kiss him, drinking kisses from his mouth.  He'd never taken anyone like this before, never felt anything like he did when Rafael's arms wound around him, clinging to him like a life preserver. He knew it must be too much for Rafael, being brutally fucked long past the point of oversensitivity, but he didn't want to stop.  He couldn't.  It was the best sex he'd ever had.

"Sonny," Rafael breathed against his mouth, and Sonny buried his face into his neck, shouting Rafael's name as he came.

It didn’t take long for the panic to settle in, once it was over. Lying on his back, Rafael’s expensive sheets soft on his skin and the man himself panting beside him, Sonny felt a sense of regret and self loathing grip him so tight he thought he’d choke.

What the fuck did he just do?

This wasn’t who he was. He didn’t fall into bed with a suspect. He didn’t fall into bed with  _ anyone _ really, especially not an international art thief who had every law enforcement agency in the world waiting on him to slip up so they could get a piece of him.

No, Sonny went to work, did as he was supposed to, followed the rules, never crossed the line, and now the line was so far behind him he was afraid he’d never find it again.

He hopped out of the bed so fast he practically tripped and began the search for his clothes.

Rafael, who had been lightly dozing in that sweet spot between mind blowing orgasm and actual sleep, sat up immediately. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get out of here.” Sonny grabbed his briefs from their spot on the floor and slipped them on. He found his pants and, once they were buttoned and zipped, began the search for his shirt.

Rafael watched him with a frown on his face. “I was going to make you french toast in the morning. I make great french toast.”

“Is everything a fucking joke to you?” Sonny snapped, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his shirt. He struggled with the buttons, his hands were shaking so badly. How could he have let this happen? He was going to lose everything because of one stupid decision—one incredible, toe curling, best orgasm of his life, decision.

He shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about the way he’d felt buried deep inside of Rafael. No matter how right it had felt in the moment, it was completely wrong, and he needed to walk out of here and never think of it again.

“I wasn’t joking,” Rafael said calmly.

Sonny just looked at him, blinking slowly. He decided he’d prefer it if Rafael had been kidding. Did he honestly think that there could be anything more to them than what had just happened? Even that was too much. “I have to go.”

In one swift movement Rafael was up on his knees on the bed, snagging Sonny by the wrist to prevent him from going anywhere. He was still naked and it took every ounce of willpower that Sonny had not to let his eyes drift south.

“Are you honestly telling me,” Rafael practically purred, reaching out to rub the hand that wasn’t around Sonny’s wrist over the detective’s chest and torso. Sonny felt the warmth of his palm through the fabric of his shirt and fought to remain stoic under the touch. “That you can just walk out of here and pretend that this never happened? Pretend that you didn’t just have the greatest fuck of your life?”

“I have to,” Sonny answered roughly. “If I’m going to arrest you.”

He expected Rafael to balk at that, to let go of him, order him out of his home, but instead a cocky smirk crossed his face, and his long index finger traced a line up Sonny’s side. “Now who’s the one making jokes?”

Sonny remained silent and Rafael let go of his wrist, resting both hands on the other man’s shoulders and leaning in close. “Tell me you don’t still want me.” His words ghosted over Sonny’s lips and Sonny felt himself lean in, almost imperceptibly and completely against his will, even as he began to shake his head.

“I don’t.” It was unconvincing, even to his own ears, but Rafael dropped his hands and leaned back, out of Sonny’s space. The disappointment Sonny felt ran bone deep and it was all he could do to take a step back instead of pushing Rafael back down on the bed.

“I guess you should go then.” The grin was still in place and green eyes twinkled, like he knew a secret that Sonny wasn’t privy to.

Without another word Sonny found his belt, which, to his relief, still had his holstered gun attached, and walked quickly for the front door, scooping his suit jacket up off of the floor as he went.

When he heard the door slam, Rafael dropped back onto the bed, whistling to himself as he pulled Sonny’s badge from underneath his mattress, admiring the way the streetlights from outside glinted off of the metal.

* * *

The sun was just barely beginning to show itself when Carisi pulled his car to a stop near the seaport. He put it in park and turned off the engine, but made no move to climb out. He scrubbed his hands over his face, slapping at his cheeks a little, and then, in a move that filled him with shame, he grabbed the paper coffee cup that had been in his cup holder since the day before and drained the small amount of cold coffee that it held. 

He grimaced at the bitter taste, putting the empty cup back in the holder and finally climbed from the car.

“You look like shit,” Nick said by way of greeting.

“Thanks,” Sonny grumbled. “Didn’t get much sleep.” That was putting it mildly. He’d tried going to sleep after getting home from Barba’s the night before, but everytime he closed his eyes he’d pictured the way the man writhed beneath him, hearing the moans that escaped his throat just as clearly as if he were back in the room with him.

And then the shame would settle in, blooming in his chest cold and heavy.

It was a vicious cycle that only ended with his phone ringing just before 5am, calling him down to the highjacking of a truck full of electronics. He supposed he should welcome the distraction.

“What do we got?” he asked Amaro.

“According to first on scene, the driver was delivering a truck full of TV’s,” Nick read from his notepad.  “He stopped at a red light, two guys in all black, including ski masks, approached. They both had guns. Driver tried to comply, but got pistol whipped anyway.” He nodded toward the ambulance where a heavyset man in his forties sat in the back while a paramedic bandaged his forehead.

“Value?” Sonny asked.

“Around fifty grand.”

A breeze whipped up, coming in off the East River, blowing back Sonny’s suit jacket and Amaro eyed him carefully.

“You must really be tired if you forgot your badge.”

“What?” Sonny’s hand went to his hip, but it only hit belt. “Fuck.” He’d been so distracted and sleep deprived he hadn’t even noticed he didn’t have it.

“It’s just at home, right?” Nick shrugged like it was no big deal. “You can go by and grab it later.”

“Yeah,” Sonny nodded, but panic threatened to overtake him as he realized where it had to be. He fought to keep his expression neutral and took breaths as deep as he could manage without Nick noticing.

He didn’t know what was worse, the thought that Barba could hold it over him, possibly use it as proof that they’d been together, or that he’d have to go see him in order to try and get it back. He didn’t trust Rafael, or himself for that matter, if they were to be face to face again, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yo, you coming?” Nick called in his direction and Sonny realized he’d started over toward the ambulance.

“Yeah, sorry.” Sonny shook his head, as if that could get rid of the worried thoughts that plagued him.

It took a couple of hours to interview the driver—who was now at the hospital getting evaluated for a concussion—set up an APB for the truck, track down the owner of the merchandise, and scrounge up all the security footage they could from the area. By the time they got back to the precinct Sonny thought he would collapse and it was only now technically the beginning of his work day.

“Barba must have a thing for you.”

“What?” Sonny’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

Nick hooked a thumb toward Sonny’s desk where a small black box with a purple ribbon sat in the middle of it. “Not big enough to be a bomb,” he commented, tossing his jacket over the back of his chair before settling into it.

Nick was right. It was just the perfect size to hold a detective’s badge. Sonny felt relief flood through him, maybe Barba wasn’t going to toy with him for once, but the relief was short-lived. He couldn’t open the box in front of Nick. If it did hold his badge, he’d have to explain why Barba had it in the first place.

He grabbed a couple of tissues and used them to pick up the box, making a show of not touching it with his bare hands. “I’m gonna go find some gloves, just in case.” They both knew that there was no way Barba had left any forensic evidence on the box, but it was protocol so Nick couldn’t really say anything about it.

Heart thumping, Sonny carried the box down the hall before slipping into the—thankfully empty—bunk room. Dropping onto a cot he stared at the box for a moment before pulling at the ribbon. He sat it aside and then pulled off the lid, expecting the shiny gold of his badge. It was shiny alright, but it was not his badge.

The diamond in the box was so large that even the dim lights of the bunk room bounced off of it, sending a rainbow of reflections over the fair skin of Sonny’s face. He recognized the ring immediately. It had been stolen from a jewelry store in the diamond district nearly a year ago, replaced by a replica that was such high quality work that no one noticed for months.

It wasn’t often that the store had a buyer for a $2 million dollar ring so the fake had sat in its case until they finally had someone interested. Only then, once under the scrutiny of an insurance appraiser, did they realize it was a fake.

Fortunately, the store’s security system was all digital and they kept their footage for a year. Unfortunately, on the night they believed the robbery took place, the cameras blacked out. With any forensics long gone, they had very little to work with.

Until now.

Using the tissues, Sonny removed the ring from the box, revealing a card. The message was typed and not addressed or signed, but Sonny knew who it was for.

_ Thought you might be looking for this. As for the other thing you’re missing, well, you’ll have to come and get it. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael sat his glass down, stepping closer when Sonny remained quiet. “I knew you’d come back.”
> 
> He felt the ghost of Rafael’s breath on his lips and resisted the urge to dip his head, to close the mere centimeters between them. His voice was rough with the effort when he spoke. “Because you tricked me.”
> 
> Rafael tilted his head, looking up at him, green eyes calculating. “Did I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the delay is my fault, seriously I'm a mess y'all know by now. barbaXcarisi wrote all the good parts. If there's something you don't like or that offended you, that's the part I wrote. The gross stuff. - Power-Bottom-Barba
> 
> So sorry for the long wait on this, but hopefully it was worth it! And PBB is a liar, all the good (filthy) stuff came from him and isn't that really why we're all here? - barbaXcarisi
> 
> <3

The door loomed in front of him. It was metal, painted dark gray just like thousands of other apartment doors in New York City, but that was where the similarities came to an end. Because behind this door was the single greatest mistake Sonny Carisi had ever made. A mistake that, despite everything in his mind telling him that he shouldn’t—that he  _ couldn’t _ —his body wanted to make again. And again. 

He’d wanted to come sooner, like if he arrived when the sun was still up it would keep him from doing something that he shouldn’t, like Rafael Barba’s power over him could only work under the cover of darkness, but a hellish morning had turned into a hellish afternoon and evening, and he hadn’t been able to get away from the precinct until now.

Back at the precinct, once the flush had gone from his cheeks and his breathing had returned to normal, he’d shoved the note from Rafael into his pocket and carried the ring into the squad room to show Nick.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Nick had jumped from his chair, eyes wide. “Of course it was him.”

They’d notified the jewelry store, sent the ring and the box to the lab for analysis (even though they knew they wouldn’t find anything), and then reviewed the security footage from the cameras in the squad room, the precinct entrance, and the elevators. They came up empty. The only thing they had was footage of a uniformed officer walking by Carisi’s desk, the box appearing after he’d passed by, but no matter what angle they played they could never see him actually dropping the box or his face.

Despite the unusual situation, the familiar routine of police work had kept Sonny steady throughout the day. Barba was never too far from his mind, both memories of the night before and sheer terror at being found out and stripped of his badge (well, more than he already had been) crept up regularly, but there was something gloriously mundane and mind numbing about watching security footage and filling out lab forms.

But that all came to an end when they’d briefed their captain.

“And you have no leads as to who might have been behind this?” Captain Dodds asked, seated behind his desk while Sonny and Nick stood before him.

“Well—”

“No,” Sonny spoke quickly over Amaro before he’d even thought about it.  “Security cams are a dead end and it’ll be a couple days on forensics, but we aren’t counting on finding anything.”  

“What the hell?” Nick hissed as soon as they were outside of the captain’s office. “Why didn’t you say anything about Barba?”

“Because,” Sonny threw a look over his shoulder at the captain’s door as if he was going to pop out and ask, ‘What’s this about Barba?’ but the door remained closed. “We don’t have any actual proof that it’s him.”

“We’re at least going to bring him in?” They reached their desks, but neither of them sat.

“On what grounds? We have absolutely nothing. It would be two seconds before his lawyer had him out of here, and then no doubt he’d rabbit. In the wind just like before.” Sonny believed everything he was saying. If Barba sensed that he might actually go down for this, he’d run.

The thought of Rafael leaving town had his heart thumping. He did his best to convince himself that it was because he wanted him behind bars and not back in bed.

“And he gave you nothing yesterday?”

_ Only a mind blowing orgasm,  _ Sonny thought, feeling his cheeks warm. “No. This guy’s good, Nick. Couches everything in a hypothetical, talks in circles. It’s quite a show.”

Amaro narrowed his eyes at him. “Sounds like you admire the guy.”

Sonny shrugged, nonchalant. “We deal with morons every day who think they’re criminal masterminds. I like the challenge of going up against someone who actually is.”

“Not me,” Nick shook his head, finally dropping into his chair. “Give me the morons any day; they help keep my clearance rate up.”

Now, standing outside of Rafael’s apartment, Sonny did his best to push aside any positive thoughts he had about the man. He had to concentrate on his worst qualities. If he only thought of what a despicable person he was, he could get his badge and go without making anymore grave mistakes.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his fist to knock on the door.

He was met with silence. For a moment he was both relieved and dismayed at the thought that Barba might not be there, but soon he heard shuffling and the sound of the deadbolt disengaging.

“Detective.” There wasn’t even a hint of surprise in Rafael’s voice.

His appearance threw Sonny off. He was used to seeing the man in expensive, well-fitted suits, which looked amazing on him, but the dark jeans and soft navy sweater he was wearing now sent a streak of warmth to Sonny’s belly.

He ignored it. “I want my badge.”

“You should really keep better track of your belongings,” Rafael tsked, opening the door wider for Sonny to step through, but the detective shook his head, maintaining his place in the hallway.

Sonny scoffed. “Yeah, especially around pickpockets. Bring me the badge.”

“I have to go get it. Come in so I can close the door.” He looked over Sonny’s shoulder into the hallway, the slightest bit of unease—the first Sonny had ever seen on him—creeping into his features.

Sonny didn’t move.

“It seems we’re at an impasse,” Rafael said, all hints of worry gone now. “I’m closing this door no matter which side of it you’re on. Have fun explaining to your superiors where your badge has gone.”

Sonny ground his jaw as he thought about his options. He could claim he just lost the badge, but that meant lying on official paperwork, not to mention the fine of having it replaced, the probable desk duty, and possible suspension. Or worse, if Barba ever decided to use it against him. Left with very little choice, he stepped into the apartment.

And of course the fucker smirked.

“That’s what I thought.” Rafael closed the door behind him, once again flipping the deadbolt. Sonny didn’t jump this time and he had no gun to reach for even if he did. He’d left it locked up at the precinct. With his badge already pilfered, he hadn’t wanted to risk Barba getting ahold of his gun too.

“Well?” he said when Rafael just stood there, appraising Sonny in a way that brought a flush to his cheeks that had nothing to do with embarrassment.

“Well, what?” Rafael asked, and his distraction didn’t seem put upon as he trailed his gaze up the length of him, finally meeting his eyes.

“The badge.”

“I’ll get it, but don’t you want a drink or something? It seems like you’ve had a long day.” He moved into the living room, not looking back, confident that Sonny would follow. He didn’t want to, but his feet moved on their own. “Or are you still on duty?” Rafael mocked lightly, reaching for the decanter of scotch on the bar cart.

“No, I’m off,” Sonny said, wondering what was wrong with him as he took the glass from Barba. He was allowing himself to get distracted. “But I shouldn’t drink.” Rafael ignored his outstretched hand when he tried to give the drink back, so Sonny stepped forward, setting it on the cart. The move was a mistake because now he stood almost directly in front of Barba.

“That’s expensive scotch you’re wasting.” Rafael took a sip of his own, making a show of swallowing down the liquid.

Sonny’s eyes watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with the effort, but still managed to retort, “I’m sure you didn’t pay for it.” It didn’t come out as sharp as he meant it.

“No,” a smile played at the corner of his mouth, “but someone did and I’m sure they wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Sonny took in the mischievous glint in his green eyes and suddenly wished he’d drank the scotch. At least then he’d have an excuse for the heat that coursed through his veins.

Rafael sat his glass down, stepping closer when Sonny remained quiet. “I knew you’d come back.”

He felt the ghost of Rafael’s breath on his lips and resisted the urge to dip his head, to close the mere centimeters between them. His voice was rough with the effort when he spoke. “Because you tricked me.”

Rafael tilted his head, looking up at him, green eyes calculating. “Did I?”

Sonny hated himself. Barba  _ had _ played him, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to be here. Even before he’d noticed his badge missing he’d wanted nothing more than to climb from his bed and make the trip across town, to once again be buried inside of Rafael. It was all he could think about now, standing this close, feeling the warmth emanating from him, his expensive cologne making him lightheaded.

“This has to be the last time,” Sonny murmured, bringing both hands up to cup Rafael’s face.

“Sure.” Rafael agreed even though he knew it was far from the truth.

Sonny wouldn’t be able to lie about it this time, not even to himself. He was the one who moved, the one who closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Rafael’s. It was slow, deep, not hurried like before, but just as dirty as he licked into Rafael’s mouth, their hips pressing together and Rafael’s hands fisted in Sonny’s suit jacket.

He didn’t want it to be as good as it was, as easy as it was.  It shouldn’t be easy, knowing what he did about who and what the other man was.  But Rafael tasted like heaven; like scotch and sin and every hedonistic pleasure that Sonny had ever denied himself.  

Sonny’s jacket hit the floor, followed by his tie.  By the time his shirt tails had been pulled free of his slacks and Rafael’s fingers were unfastening his buttons with all the deftness demanded by his profession, all thought of his badge had flown from his mind.  It was as though he had just come here for this, lead into temptation by the fire of Rafael’s body and only too glad to follow.

The languid kiss was only broken when he tugged Rafael’s sweater over his head and tossed the too-soft cashmere to the floor.  He wanted to lean back in, to recapture those ever-smirking lips right away, but he took his time instead, staring at the dark hair dusting over Rafael’s chest and disappearing deliciously into his waistband, admiring the stark pale contrast of his own skin against Rafael’s even tan.

Rafael pushed Sonny’s shirt back off his shoulders and slid long fingers along his flat stomach and lean sides.  Lean and long and fit, and Rafael couldn’t tear his eyes from the younger man’s face, enjoyed the way Sonny openly admired him, with dilated eyes and plush lips parted.  Rafael was endlessly vain, and Sonny’s unmasked desire suited that vanity.

“I thought you weren’t coming back unless it was to arrest me, Detective?” Halfway naked and fully wanting, and he still couldn’t resist goading the younger man.  It was in his nature.

Sonny didn’t flinch from it, instead meeting Rafael’s gaze, brazen and dangerous.  “I’m still going to arrest you.”

The way he said it shouldn’t have made desire pool in Rafael’s belly, but there were a great many things about this that shouldn’t be, and he had no plans on stopping.

He slipped the detective’s handcuffs from his belt.  He knew the other man hadn’t felt it, but it was confirmed by the surprised and irritated look on his face when Rafael dangled the cuffs in front of it.

“The only way these are going on me is if they’re attached to the headboard.”  

Sonny’s eyes darkened, but he grinned.  Rafael was delighted.

“I mean, that can be arranged,” Sonny said, more easily than he expected.  “But you should know it’s just a preview. The main event will be when I haul you into the precinct.”

Rafael rolled his eyes.  “You talk a big game.”

“You know exactly how big my game is.”  

Rafael barked a laugh, and Sonny took the opportunity to seize his mouth in another kiss. He gripped Rafael’s upper arms and walked him backward toward his bedroom.  If Rafael had any objection to being manhandled, he didn’t show it, instead reaching between them to pull Sonny’s belt open and undo his slacks. The back of his legs bumped up against his mattress just as he was hooking his thumbs under Sonny’s pants and briefs to push them down his legs.  

Sonny did his best to be graceful, stepping out of his shoes and socks along with the rest of his clothes.  Thankfully, Rafael was preoccupied with divesting himself of his expensive-looking jeans and boxer briefs, and Sonny’s eyes zeroed in on the handcuffs still dangling where Rafael had hooked them around a finger.

“Were you serious about that?” he blurted, instantly wishing he were cooler.  

Rafael was momentarily confused, but Sonny gestured to the handcuffs, and he grinned. Kicking his jeans away he sat backward, making more of a show of himself than necessary as he stretched out along his bed.  He reached up above his head, flexing his hips up as he did so, just to watch the way Sonny’s pink tongue flicked out to wet his lips at the sight of him. He slotted his hands through the posts of his headboard and deftly fastened the cuffs around his wrists.  

To Sonny, the click was deafening.  Rafael Barba naked and stretched out in front of him, hands bound and thick prick flagging against his soft stomach, had his mouth watering.  Mindlessly, he reached down and stroked himself, already slick with precome that welled up at the sight of the man now helpless before him.

“I’m at your mercy,” Rafael said, still smirking, and Sonny moaned.

“Damn right you are.”  Sonny hoped he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.  This shouldn’t turn him on as much as it did. He didn’t want to tie up his partners, didn’t want to have anyone ‘at his mercy.’  And yet, something about Rafael, the way that he taunted and infuriated him, the way he’d toyed with him in this absurd criminal cat and mouse, had Sonny feeling positively predatory.  He climbed onto the bed, onto Rafael, straddling his thighs to pin him to the mattress, hands firm on his chest and shoulders, up along his arms, checking the cuffs and making sure they were securely fashioned.

“No tricks,” Rafael breathed, and Sonny’s face was so close to his that he could feel the words almost more than he heard them.

“You’re reckless,” Sonny warned, dipping is head just enough that his lips grazed the other man’s as he spoke, thrilling at the way Rafael arched his neck, lifting his head in an attempt to meet his mouth.  “I could do anything to you.”

“I want you to,” Rafael said, so wanton and willing that Sonny groaned aloud and captured his lips in a searing kiss.  Hungry and controlling, one hand gripped Rafael’s jaw as he licked into his mouth, swallowing his sounds of pleasure and surprise.  The other hand snaked between them, taking hold of Rafael and jerking him roughly, fast, just to show that he could.

Rafael moaned and thrust his hips up toward Sonny’s hand as much as he was able, pinned to the bed as he was.  He was far less conflicted than his partner, openly a hedonist and all too happy to play at being under the other man’s power.  It fed nicely into what made all of this so taboo in the first place, the thrill of danger inherent in letting a cop who was investigating him close enough to fuck him.  With his eyes closed he could almost imagine them in an interrogation room with him handcuffed to the table, though those unforgiving tabletops would never be as soft as the duvet and mattress Sonny was pushing him into.  

It was Sonny who broke the kiss, pulling back enough to watch dark-eyed as Rafael flinched and gasped open-mouthed up at him as he squeezed tight at the base of his cock.  That open mouth was too tempting to resist. Sonny released the firm hold on his jaw to drag the calloused tips of two fingers lightly over Rafael’s swollen, bitten-pink lips, and then further, to slide against his tongue.  

For once obliging and pliant, Rafael suckled at Sonny’s fingers sweetly, swirling his tongue between and around them.  It wasn’t enough for Sonny, who pushed his long fingers deeper, until the tips of them brushed the back of Rafael’s throat and he gagged.  Sonny didn’t relent, however, keeping them deep and thrusting shallowly. That Rafael didn’t fight him, but swallowed and sucked through his body’s initial reaction, sent a dark thrill down Sonny’s spine.

“Fuck, yes.  That’s right.”

Sonny could only watch Rafael’s cheeks hollowing around his fingers and feel the flutter of his throat as he gagged him for so long before the desire became too great.  He released his grip on Rafael’s dick and pulled his fingers free of his mouth, gripping the headboard with one hand and pulling himself up the bed until he was sitting up on his knees, one planted on either side of Rafael’s chest. His flushed and dripping prick flagged in front of the other man’s face.  

“Open your mouth,” Sonny said, low and rough, in a voice he barely recognized.

Rafael blinked up at him, first dazed and then, slowly, defiant.  He parted his lips only minutely, just enough to wet them with the tip of his tongue.

“Wider,” Sonny demanded, and when Rafael simply leveled his gaze at him without compiling, Sonny slapped him.

It wasn’t hard, certainly not enough to leave a mark, but it was enough to sting.   It was shock that had Rafael’s jaw dropping, but it wasn’t shock that made him stick out his tongue to rest against his lower lip as he looked up at the man who had manhandled him. It was enough for Sonny, who groaned his approval and took the back of Rafael’s head in one hand and his own cock in the other, angling them so the blunt head pushed past Rafael’s lips, across his tongue, pressing up against his soft palate.

It was shocking, but so fucking good that Rafael’s head swam and precome smeared his stomach where his cock bobbed against it.  He pressed his tongue up against Sonny, opening his mouth wider and looking up, making eye contact even as Sonny gripped his short hair and pushed deeper into his mouth.  He choked a little as Sonny pushed into his throat, and he tilted his chin up, relaxing as best he could. The way Sonny’s ragged breathing was broken by a moan as Rafael’s chin and nose pressed up against his body was all the encouragement he needed to swallow around him, just to hear that moan again.

Only once Rafael’s hands were jerking the cuffs against the headboard did Sonny pull out, watching with rapt attention as the other man sucked in air, smears of saliva across his lips and chin.  He used his hand to guide himself into his mouth again, thrusting shallowly, and Rafael moaned hungrily, sucking obscenely at everything he was given. Encouraged, Sonny gripped his hair more firmly and tilted his head back so he could angle his hips deeper.  Rafael relaxed his throat, his eyes fixed to Sonny’s face.

It was his focused, fierce gaze that did it, taunting even as his body was slack and willing.  Sonny groaned and rocked his hips, pushing deep into Rafael’s throat again and again, letting the soft sounds of Rafael’s swallowing and choking by turns wash over him, secondary only to the pleasure of his talented mouth.  

“Fuck, yeah,” he breathed, holding Rafael’s face pressed flush up against his body, his throat contracting around him.  “That’s right, fucking take it, just like that.”

Rafael was in heaven.  His lungs burned for air, sparks of light popping behind his eyes, but every time he thought it would be too much and jerked Sonny would pull out, letting him gasp in ragged breaths before the assault began again. His eyes watered, his face and neck slick with spit and precome.  He knew how he must look, and it only made him harder, as did the thought of how wrecked his voice would be tomorrow from the way Sonny was using his throat.

Sonny pulled all the way out and Rafael panted for breath, licking his abused lips and staring up at Sonny.  His blue eyes were burning with want.

“Do you like it?” Sonny asked, a question to which he clearly knew the answer.

Contrary and defiant, Rafael stuck out his chin and didn’t answer.  He let the challenge be written across his face, and to his delight, Sonny met it.

He slapped him again, a little harder this time, and Rafael rolled his head with it, gasping.  He’d never liked this kind of thing before, but he was hardly ashamed of it. He gave himself over to the fantasy, to the moment.

“I like it,” he ground out, hoarse.  “Come on, give it to me.” He opened his mouth again, wide, obscene, his tongue resting heavy on his lower lip.  

“That’s fucking right, you do.”  Sonny gripped his hair again and pulled him down onto his prick, thrusting straight to the back of his throat.  Rafael choked but arched up into it regardless, and Sonny let himself be lost in it, in the spell of Rafael. He tugged his head in one direction and then the other, holding him in close and pulling him off, then begin anew.  Only when his balls tightened and heat began to coil low in his belly did he pull back, griping himself hard at the root to ward off his climax. His own breathing was nearly as hard as Rafael’s.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Rafael groaned, once his coughing subsided.  “Is this gonna be all foreplay, or are you ever going to fuck me?”

Only Rafael Barba could be that cocky, still fucking smirking, even refaced and ruined.  Sonny smeared his hand through the mess of Barba’s face, almost affectionately, if it weren’t so mocking.

“So needy.  Had to steal my badge just so you could get my dick again.”

“Don’t you mean you left your badge, just so you’d have an excuse to come over and talk me to death before you get around to  _ fucking me _ ?”  Rafael planted his feet on the mattress and canted his hips up, jostling Sonny where he straddled his chest.  “You can stall all you want. You know you want it. You know you’ve never had a better fuck in your life.”

“Don’t you ever shut up?”  It was all Sonny could say, because any denial would be a lie.  Barba had stolen his badge, there was no question about that, but he was right about the rest.  He’d never had sex that good, an orgasm so mind-blowing, or someone he wanted to fuck again more.  He swung off Barba’s body, jerking open his nightstand and finding condoms and lube where they’d been the night before, and ripped open a foil packet, rolling it onto his cock and slicking it with lube, pouring slick into his hand.

“That’s right, come on.  Shut me up, if you can.” Rafael grinned, spreading his knees further apart and tugging his hands to make the cuffs rattle.  He knew there would be red rings around his wrists from how hard he’d jerked them while Sonny was fucking his face, but he’d enjoy looking at them later and remembering this.  

Sonny laughed, shocked at the sound bubbling up out of him.  He shouldn’t be enjoying this so much, shouldn’t be enjoying Rafael this much.  It was bad enough that he was consumed with desire for the other man; he couldn’t like him, too.

But he was still smiling as he shoved Rafael’s right knee up, reaching between them to rub slick fingers across his asshole.  “You’re a real shit, you know that? An absolute pain in the ass. You make me fucking crazy.” He didn’t waste time, working one and then two fingers into Rafael, turning and twisting his wrist to open him roughly.  

Rafael’s eyes closed in spite of himself, moaning in pleasure at Sonny’s rough handling of him, curling his body as best he could to allow more access.  “Yeah, that right?” he panted, lips curled into a wicked smile. “What are you going to do about it, Detective? You want to fuck a confession out of me?”  He laughed, but it was cut off short and turned to gasps as Sonny pressed a third finger home and drove them up against his prostate. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

“Got something to confess, Barba?”  Sonny rubbed circles against Rafael’s prostate, smirking as the other man’s mouth gaped in soundless pleasure.  “Should have known you wouldn’t be able to stay silent.”

“Oh, god, yeah,” Rafael gasped with sudden delight, eyes shooting open and fixing on Sonny.  “Mirandize me, that would be so fucking hot.”

Sonny balked with a shocked laugh.  “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Rafael arched his back and clenched around Sonny’s fingers, causing the younger man to groan openly.  “Spoilsport. Stop screwing around and fuck me, then.”

As though Sonny could say no.  

He slid his fingers free of Rafael’s body and took hold of himself, lining up his aching prick with Rafael’s hole.  He pushed the other man’s knee a little higher and pushed into him with one slow stroke.

Rafael felt even better than he remembered.  Blindingly tight, smooth heat gripping him like a vice.  He took hold of Rafael’s other knee, pushing them both up until his ankles were over his shoulders, bending his body so Sonny could thrust into him easily.  The last time had been brutal, hard and fast, and though Rafael had lit a fire inside him he made himself take his time now. They couldn’t do this again, and he was determined to wring every drop from it.

“God, yes, that’s right.  That’s right, come on.” Rafael dropped his head back to the pillow behind him, lazy and glad to let Sonny do the work.  Sonny’s slow, building rhythm was perfect for the moment, letting Rafael relax into the stretch and burn.

“Look at you,” Sonny groaned.  “Just gonna lay there and take it, aren’t you?  Take that fucking cock, fuck. Come on, tell me you want it.”

“Are you ever going to give it to me?” Rafael goaded, quickly ready for more.  “I know you can fuck better than this.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Sonny laughed.  But then he did.

He leaned forward, letting go of Rafael’s knees and gripping the headboard above his shackled hands.  He snapped his hips, thrusting hard and fast into the other man’s willing body, relishing the rattle of the handcuffs and the slap of his hips against Rafael’s ass.  Sonny knew he was hitting Rafael’s prostate as the other man’s taunts and chuckles turned to moans and whines, his hips flexing, his beautiful brow furrowed.

“Yeah, that’s what you want, huh?  Come on, let me hear you,” Sonny was caught up, running at the mouth, overwhelmed by the pleasure of Rafael’s body, the spell of desire he had tangled him in.  “I want you to come from this, just from getting fucked. Can you? Come on, let me hear that mouth.”

“You’re so fucking dirty, I love it,” Rafael gasped in breathless laughter that dissolved into a long groan of pleasure as Sonny thrust hard against him.  “I want it, I want it, that’s right, fuck it out of me, Jesus  _ Christ—” _

Sweat trickled down Sonny’s back and beaded on his forehead from the effort, but he wasn’t going to slow down until he had given Rafael exactly what he was asking for.  It  _ was _ dirty, and fun, and ridiculous, and so fucking hot that he couldn’t stand it. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take any more, sure that his heart was going to burst or he was going to come so hard that he’d black out, Rafael shouted out in a broken voice.

“Sonny, fuck,  _ Sonny! _ ”  His back and neck arched as he came, stripes of come painting across his soft belly and all the way up to his chest.  The sight of it was like a flag to a bull, and Sonny renewed his effort, a burst of staccato, rapid thrusts, determined to fuck every drop of come out of him.  

Finally, Rafael sagged back against the bed, panting and keening with oversensitivity.  Sonny swayed and stilled, dipping low to kiss the other man, drinking kisses from his mouth in a gentle, tender contrast to the way he fucked him just moments ago.  To Sonny’s surprise, Rafael lifted his chin almost sweetly, eager to meet his mouth even as he came back down.

He turned his head, nuzzling at Barba’s ear, breathing the scent of his sweat and cologne.  “You good?” he asked, even as his hips rocked against against his lover’s body.

“Mmhmm,” Rafael sighed, and stretched.  He rocked his hips up, and as Sonny moaned in pleasure, it was too easy for Rafael to twist his hands, double joints letting him contort free of cuffs that he maneuvered with a pickpocket’s grace, pushing them through themselves and snapping them onto Sonny, who’s hands still had their grip upon the bed frame. One shackle on his wrist, the other attached to the bed, and Rafael was free to stretch his hands and rub the red marks the cuffs had left on his wrists.

Sonny scrambled, jerked his arm, and stared at Rafael in unmasked shock.

“How— I— what the fuck?!”

With only a murmur of complaint when Sonny’s jostling caused him to pull out, Rafael stretched contentedly, and smiled beautifically up at the other man.  His whole body was buzzing, the post orgasmic bliss only heightened by the joy he felt at having pulled one over on his lover.

He couldn’t help it.  It was his nature.

“Are you really that surprised?” he purred, stroking a lazy hand down the front of Sonny’s body.  The detective shivered, despite himself.

“How the fuck did you—?” Sonny was gaping, but he was still hard, and Rafael’s smile spread.

“Like I would tell you.”  Rafael stripped the condom from Sonny and tossed it aside, wrapping long fingers around his flushed prick, slick and still leaking precome.  “Besides, aren’t there more pressing matters to attend to? And unlike you, I have no aversion to using my hands…”

“I need to know how you—oh, god—” Sonny grunted, wanting to protest, wanting to know how in the hell Barba had gotten out of his damn handcuffs.  He’d checked them after Rafael put them on, he knew they were secure. Had Barba swapped them for a pair of trick ones? He yanked his wrist, grabbed the cuff with his other hand, but it was solid.  And with only a few strokes of Rafael’s hand, he couldn’t think about the handcuffs any more. “Fuck, nevermind. Don’t stop.”

He twisted, half on his side and half on Rafael, who was still stretched beneath him.  His free hand was on the other man at once, palming along his side, gripping his arm, desperate to touch any part of him.  Rafael’s wrist twisted, his grip tight and slick and skillful in a way Sonny had never quite experienced. He had been so close before, and the way Rafael was jerking him off, his climax came so quickly that it took him by surprise.

“Fuck, Rafael, fuck, god, oh god, yes!”  His arm jerked and shook the bed frame as he shot onto Rafael’s stomach, streaks of come to cover Rafael’s own, to cling to his body hair and pool in his navel.  He shook with the force of his orgasm and dropped his head forward, pressing it against Rafael’s neck and breathing raggedly as he came down.

He only lifted his head when he felt Rafael touching his wrist, manipulating the lock of the cuff with something that looked like a straight pin, which he had no way to know that the other man was using just for show.  Rafael preferred that Sonny believe that he needed some kind of tool to slip handcuffs, just in case he ever wound up in them again. Once his arm was free, Sonny rolled heavily onto his back beside Rafael.

He stared up at the ceiling, his chest heaving, while he waited for his heartbeat to slow and the feeling to return to his limbs. The guilt and self loathing were there, but they were buried so deep under a layer of gratification that he could barely feel them. He didn’t have the presence of mind to decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

The bed shifted and he watched from the corner of his eye as Rafael reached for the nightstand, coming away with a wet wipe and first using it to wipe his face before cleaning up the come cooling on his belly. There was part of Sonny that hated to see it go. There’d been something satisfying in watching the evidence of their mutual pleasure mixing there together on Rafael’s soft bronze skin.

Rafael tossed the wipe in the trash and then rolled on his side, rubbing a firm hand over Sonny’s bicep, massaging the muscles that had to be sore after what he’d just put them through. Sonny rolled his head to the side to look at him, surprised at the tenderness with which he tended to his aching muscles.

“Why do you have to be...you?”

The corner of Rafael’s mouth turned up, but there was something sad in it. “I’m choosing to not be offended by that.” His hand slid down Sonny’s arm and he began giving his forearm the same treatment his bicep had received.

“It’s just...nevermind.” Sonny shook his head, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of Rafael working his muscles. It wouldn’t do any good to go there, to think about what could be if their professions—if Barba’s could be called that—weren’t diametrically opposed.   

“I didn’t plan on it, you know,” he said softly, his thumb lightly treading over the red mark that was darkening around Sonny’s wrist, identical to the set he was now sporting. There was something primal and possessive in him that wished it would be there always, a physical reminder that, even if just for a little while, Sonny had been his. “Having this life. It kind of just...happened.”

Sonny opened his eyes again, moving them from where Rafael’s thumb still caressed his wrist up to sincere green eyes. The taunting, demanding Barba from twenty minutes ago, the heathen who’d had Sonny’s dick in his throat and precome smeared on his face, was gone, replaced by someone soft spoken and earnest.

It was surreal.

He didn’t speak, knowing there was more to it, and instead waited on Rafael to continue.

It was an interrogation tactic—Barba  _ knew  _ it was an interrogation tactic. People tended to want to fill a silence, and he’d used that to his own benefit many times—but he found that he wanted to give into it. Not out of any basic human fear of quiet, but because he felt compelled to make Sonny understand.

“Growing up, things at home weren’t the greatest, so I spent a lot of time out on the streets, running around with my friends, just so I could avoid going home. It started as a dumb challenge, who could get the most wallets from unsuspecting tourists, but I got pretty good at it. A couple trips a week to Times Square and I had enough money to buy lunch at school, to go to the movies, anything I really needed. I didn’t have to ask my parents for anything.”

“How did you end up at Harvard?” Sonny asked. He’d always found it interesting that someone with Rafael’s education and talents had resorted to a life of crime.

Rafael sighed heavily and for a moment Sonny didn’t think he was going to get an answer. “I applied on a whim. Just to see if I was good enough. I’d always done well in school, even with my non-sanctioned extracurriculars. It just came easy to me and I liked learning. I never planned on actually going if I got in. There was no way I could afford it. But then I did get in, and with a full scholarship. It was the out I never thought I’d get. I jumped at it.

“Much to my father’s disappointment, my concentration was in History of Art and Architecture. I’d dabbled in drawing and painting a bit, nothing serious, but multiple trips to the Met to...relieve tourists of their financial burdens had given me an appreciation for art. I had a professor who saw something in me.” He hesitated now, trying to decide just how forthcoming he should—or could—be. Tales of lifting a few wallets as a kid was one thing, but the things he’d done in Cambridge, and beyond, were another story.

“I have no jurisdiction in Boston, and unless you killed someone, the statute of limitations is probably up anyway,” Sonny said with grin that was just this side of a smirk.

Rafael huffed a short laugh, deciding to split the difference, going with a vague version of the truth. “This professor, he had a, we’ll say side job, outside of teaching and he brought me in on it. He taught me everything he knew. By the time I graduated I was hooked on it, the thrill of it all. And the rest is alleged history.”

He smiled over at Sonny. “But what about you? This would be a lot easier for me if you weren’t a cop.”

Sonny smiled back, but there was a sadness in his eyes and in his tone when he answered, “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

* * *

 

The next time Sonny went back to Rafael’s apartment there was no pretense of help with the case, no game played by Rafael in order to tease him into returning. It was want, just pure unadulterated desire to be back in the man’s bed.

Rafael looked pleased to see him and there was little conversation before they were tearing at each other’s clothes. Rafael’s body was familiar to Sonny now. He knew just where to press his fingers, how hard to bite down on his flesh, what pace to set once he was buried deep inside of him, to have Rafael writhing beneath him, calling out his name as he came.

It became an addiction, Rafael’s body. No matter how much he fought the urge, he found himself at Rafael’s door, over and over again. Even the knowing smirk on the other man’s face as he pulled open the door had gone from an annoyance to a turn on.

“It’s the last time,” Sonny promised each time, before grabbing Rafael and crashing their lips together. They both knew it was bullshit, but the little routine just added to the game for Rafael and it helped to quell some of the self-loathing on Sonny’s part, at least for a little while.

It was getting easier for him to lose himself in their nights together, to forget that Rafael was a criminal, that during the daylight hours Sonny was doing all that he could to find the evidence they needed to put him behind bars. It would concern him, if Sonny allowed himself to think about it, how comfortable he was becoming in Rafael’s bed.

Even now, lying on his back, his heartbeat and breathing slowly returning to normal, when early on he’d start to spiral into panic, he only felt calm, satiated.

“What’s that?” He asked, spying an origami flower on Rafael’s nightstand. He never had time to take in the space beforehand, they were always too preoccupied from the moment he walked in the door, but afterward, at least these last couple of times, he took the time to look around Rafael’s room.

It was sparse, like the rest of the apartment, only the bed, two nightstands, and a dresser, but all of the furniture was high quality, and despite the lack of trinkets or art or anything to really personalize the room, it still somehow felt distinctly Rafael. And he knew for a fact he’d never seen the paper flower before. It was the first personal item he’d ever seen lying around and it piqued his curiosity.

“What’s what?” Rafael’s head rolled to face Sonny, slower than normal in the post orgasm haze. Sonny gestured toward the nightstand and the flower. “Oh, just a note from a friend.”

The jealousy that immediately welled within him was ridiculous and he did his best to shove it back down, but something must have flashed across his face, even if only briefly, because Rafael grinned.

“Only a friend. Nothing more.”

Sonny shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “You can have as many ‘friends’ as you like. This,” he gestured between them, “is nothing more than scratching an itch and it can’t happen again anyway.”

Rafael sighed heavily. He was all about fucking with no strings attached, but Sonny’s denial, once amusing, was starting to lose its entertainment value.

Sensing the shift in the air, Sonny swung his legs over the edge of the bed, standing to begin the scavenger hunt for his clothes. Despite the ease with which he now fell into Rafael’s bed, he never stayed the night. Somehow, in his warped mind, he could justify having his dick buried to the hilt in the man, but sleeping in his bed, waking up next to him in the morning, was crossing the line.

Rafael said nothing, watching as Sonny dressed himself. He was an observant man by nature, and it hadn’t been lost on him that on these last few visits the suits Sonny wore were a bit nicer. The material a higher quality, the trousers more fitted. He’d even added a vest. Never one to miss an opportunity to stroke his own ego, he took full credit for the detective’s improved wardrobe.

Only his underwear and pants were in the bedroom, the rest of his suit laid out a path to the door, an adult version of Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs, leading him back to the real world.

“Well, um,” Sonny stood shirtless near the door, running a hand through his hair, wild from Rafael’s grip.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rafael said knowingly, leaning back comfortably on his plush pillows.

“No,” Sonny shook his head. “You won’t.”

Rafael just rolled his eyes, pulling the duvet up over himself and rolling onto his side, already close to sleep. “Lock the door behind you.”


End file.
